A Time To Heal
by EquestrianCSI
Summary: Song Fic featuring My Immortal from Evanescence. Flack, missing Angell, considers the unthinkable.
1. Chapter 1

_I'm so tired of being here; suppressed by all my childish fears. And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave. 'Cause your presence still lingers here, and it won't leave me alone._ _These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real; there's just too much that time cannot erase. When you cried, I wiped away all of your tears. When you screamed I'd fight away all of your fears. I held your hand through all of these years, and you still have all of me._

Flack looked at the photo of Jessica Angell, smiling playfully, a lock of her dark hair against her cheek. She'd been dead for weeks, but to Flack, it seemed like only yesterday he'd held her dying body in his arms.

_"Stay with me, sweetheart, just hang on. Look at me, Jess!"_ he'd plead, yelling for an ambulance.

Jessica had not responded. The last words he'd heard from her were over the phone, planning a nice, romantic evening for the two of them.

But that was before.

The restaurant she'd been in was slammed into by a large semi, the truck's occupants opening fire the minute they got out. Jess had been hit, and it was Flack who'd held her as she had slipped in and out of conscienceness.

Now, he sat alone in his apartment, tie undone, beer bottle in one hand, and the photo in the other. He laid the photo on the table before him._"Damn it, Jess, I tried so hard to save you. Why can't you leave me alone now? It's done. There's nothing I can do anymore, baby,"_ he ranted, slamming the bottle down so hard on the table that the bottom cracked.

Dazed, Flack watched the amber liquid seep from the crack, and saturate the photo, causing the edges to curl. He watched dully, his chest heaving with sobs.


	2. Chapter 2

_You used to captivate me by your resonating light; now I'm bound by the life you left behind. Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams. Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me._

Angell had been with the NYPD only a few months when she and Flack had hooked up. Although against department protocol, no one seemed to have a problem with their relationship. Same as with Monroe and Messer. Everyone kept private lives private, and business, business. But now, Jessica was dead. And Flack wished he were. His dreams of sweeping her off her feet and taking her to some deserted beach for the rest of their lives had been replaced by nightmares of blood and gunfire. Sometimes, Flack found himself sitting bolt upright out of a fitful sleep, Jess's lifeless face staring accusingly back at him, and the sweat on his chest feeling all too familiar. Jess's blood had soaked his shirt the day she died. The last time he'd held her close to him. The final moments of her life.

Their relationship hadn't been a problem before. But now, it was affecting his career, his decisions, his sanity.

His shoulder holster felt uncomfortable, and he reached around to yank the buckle loose, and then stopped. Instead, he pulled out the .9 Mil service weapon he carried every day. It felt heavy in his hand, And his heart heavy in his chest. There was no way he could go on like this. This hell that he was in, deep, dark and bottomless without his Angell, was just too much. Carefully, he slid the safety back. He was a cop; he knew how to do it right. It would be one shot, and over with before he even knew it.

His hand was shaking, but he put the cold muzzle of the gun against his dark hair, pressing the metal to his scalp so hard it hurt.

"Do it, you coward!" He screamed, hot, angry tears running down his face. "You couldn't save her; now save yourself the misery."

Still his finger stayed, as if the command from his brain wasn't reaching his hand.

"Damn it, let's get this over with," he whispered hoarsely, shutting his eyes tight as he began to squeeze.


	3. Chapter 3

_These wounds won't seem to heal, this pain is just too real; there's just too much that time cannot erase._

Flack held his breath, his gun pressed to the side of his head. Still he couldn't seem to get himself to pull the trigger; to splatter his brain matter all over the kitchen for his colleagues to have to clean up. Suddenly, a violent blow to his forearm knocked the weapon from his grasp. Spinning around and blinking to clear the tears from his vision, Flack was surprised to see Mac Taylor, granite faced and angry, standing behind him. Stella stood a few feet behind.

"_Just what the hell are you playing at, Don?" _Mac asked, his voice icy.

Stella wasn't quite so composed, and though she tried to hide it, Flack could see the tremble to her chin.

"_I can't do this anymore, Mac. It's too hard. I let her die. If I'd have been there, I could've-"_

"_You could've been killed too," _Stella interrupted angrily.

"_Now you're just going to do it here, alone? Do you really think this is what Jessica would've wanted?" _Mac asked, and Flack looked away.

"_You don't understand, Mac."_ Flack lashed out angrily, his features contorted with agony.

"_I understand better than you think," _Mac bit out, staring at the sodden picture of Jessica on the table.

Realization dawned in Flack's eyes. How could he have said that when Mac had lost his own wife in the attack on the Twin Towers? His voice quivered.

"_Mac, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I didn't mean that at all. It's just, Jess is gone and-" _

"_And you've got to let her go," _Mac said, pulling up a chair and sitting face to face with his friend.

Flack looked away, ashamed and embarrassed.

"_You can't hang on, you can't change the past. What's done, is done. Jessica wouldn't want this. She'd want you out there, saving other people from bastards like those that killed her. That's what she'd want. Do you think killing yourself would solve it, bring her back?" _

Stella was beside him now, squatting, hand on his arm.

"_Flack, we need you here. The whole team needs you. We're here for you, if you ever need to talk, you can come to any of us," _she said, and Mac nodded in agreement.

Flack looked up at his boss. _"How did you know what I was going to do, Mac? I didn't even know until a few minutes ago."_

Mac looked at him, his face still stony.

"_My team is my responsibility. If I notice someone acting off, it's my job to make sure they're okay. You weren't okay today, Don. So Stella and I came to check on you." _

Flack grinned, the first real smile he'd had since Jessica died.

"_You don't miss a damn thing do you, Mac?" _He asked, and Mac shook his head.

"_Don't give me too much credit, Don. Stella was the one who clued me in. She watches just as much as I do, if not more." _

Flack turned to look at Stella, who had tears in her eyes. _"We love you, Don, and we hate to see you hurt like this alone. We are here for you. We're a team, you know?" _She asked, and reached out, wrapping Flack into her warm embrace. Mac watched, breathing a sigh of relief that his friend was going to be okay.


	4. Chapter 4

_When you cried, I wiped away all of your tears. When you screamed I'd fight away all of your fears. I held your hand through all of these years, and you still have all of me._

Don sat on the edge of his bed, carefully placing the rest of Angell's belongings into a box beside him. He'd planned on doing this a long time ago, but somehow, keeping her things around his apartment, kept a part of her with him. Now he knew he had to let go for good. He gazed at the damp photo, which smelled of the beer it had been soaked in earlier that evening.

_I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone. But though you're still with me, I've been alone all along._

"_I've got to let you go, Jess," _he whispered quietly to the picture, tracing his thumb over Jessica's smiling face as if trying to brush the lock of hair off her cheek.

"But I'll never forget," he said, fresh tears blurring his vision.

"And I'll always carry you in my heart, because that's just the way it is."

Bringing the picture to his lips, Flack gave it a gentle , he'd never forget Jessica Angell, the beautiful Detective that turned his head, stole his heart and would always be a part of him.

But somehow, his heart didn't feel so empty, and he was able to lay the photo on top of the old pair of jeans she'd left at his place one night. Then carefully, he placed the lid on the box. Tomorrow, he'd Fed-Ex it to her family, with a note telling them he wished them well, and would always love his Angell.


End file.
